


Belle and the Beast

by sb0nd



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sb0nd/pseuds/sb0nd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle finally finds the courage to leave her little town and her father, and to move out into the world, but her new life isn't all it's cracked up to be and she soon feels lonelier than ever. Is there anyone else in this town who might understand that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flowers and Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Guys! This is my first fanfiction on this site so please leave comments to help me improve! I'm not sure which direction this story is going to go yet but I'm working ahead on it so I should know soon! Let me know what you think! x

CHAPTER 1- FLOWERS AND FEARS

“Is there much left down by the truck?” Belle called down the stairs.

“Not much darling, just two boxes. I think they’re both books.” her father called back to her.

“Right.” she paused to think, placing the heavy box of miscellaneous items at her feet. “Ok, Dad, if you bring one up and drag the other into the hallway, I’ll run down and get it when I’ve dropped this one off.”

“Ok.” her father called. His voice sounding more distant as he headed for the truck outside.

Moving day was filling Belle with both excitement and anxiety. Her father had driven her to her new apartment, ahead of the little moving truck, so that she could collect her keys and information from the cantankerous old landlady who was waiting for her outside the building. Maurice was a good father, he cared a lot for Belle and although she could tell it was breaking his heart, he’d approached her moving day with bright smiles and enthusiastic offers of help.

She heard him huffing up the stairs as he struggled under the weight of yet another box of books. Belle grabbed the forgotten box at her feet and hurried along the corridor to the open apartment door. She dropped the box with the others in the middle of the room before sweeping out of the apartment, passing a sweaty-faced Maurice on the stairs with a grin and a kiss on the cheek.

The last box was sat by the bottom of the stairs, and a quick glance out of the window told Belle that the moving truck had left. She stared at the box of books, suddenly feeling excited. This was it. The last box of her things. As soon as it was up those stairs and in the apartment, there was no turning back, all of her stuff was here… in her new home.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t felt happy at home with her dad, it was just that all her life she’d stayed close to him. He was a lonely man, lost since the death of her mother and at times it felt as though the only good thing in his life was his Belle. This left her with an enormous responsibility. She was his life, his heart, his world and she had always dreaded the day when she’d have to leave him.

But years had passed since her mother’s untimely death; Belle had achieved a BA Hons in English, choosing to stay at home and study rather than move away and explore a new city as she had always longed to do. Instead, she had stayed at home with her father, struggling to study in her cramped little box room and paying a fortune for a bus pass each month so that she could travel too and from her college campus.

Staying at home had meant that her experience of college was different than most. Instead of attending wild parties or going out to paint the town red, she’d spent her evenings reading or studying or watching movies with her distracted father and instead of stumbling out of bed and into her lectures she’d had to be mindful of the distance from her home, just outside of the town and the campus, meaning early mornings and late evenings home.

Belle had struggled to make friends at college. She could understand why. After all, she was the daddy’s girl who stayed at home, preferring the company of her books than real people her own age. She worked every weekend in her father’s florist and spent any free time she had hunched over the books in the local library. She could easily see why most of the other students didn’t have time for her.

What she didn’t understand is why they felt the need to voice their salty opinions of her. She’d lost count of how many times she’d been called ‘odd’ or ‘weird’ or a ‘freak’. It didn’t really bother her, she was who she was and she wasn’t going to change that for anyone, but it still didn’t feel nice to be stared at or laughed at or even tripped up while she walked the corridors with her nose in a book.

So, when she graduated, Belle was pleased to see the back of many of her classmates, consoling herself with the knowledge that one day they’d regret how they had spoken to her. Unfortunately for Belle, after graduation, the wild dreams of her life suddenly taking off and her adventures beginning did not come true. Instead of seeing the world, falling in love and running away, Belle found herself employed full time in her father’s shop while the seasons changed around her and life began to slip away. She’d felt miserable and stagnant as though her mind was rotting in this little town. She had been planning to leave, to talk to her father about moving away and was thinking about all the places she could go when the worst had happened.

It was late on a Tuesday night, she was curled up on the couch, lost in a book she’d read a thousand times before when the buzzing of her phone startled her out of her reverie. She struggled to untangle herself from the blanket she was tucked up in and only just answered before the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” Belle asked, wondering why someone would call her this late.

“Belle! Belle?!”

“Dad?” Maurice was frantic, in the background she could hear the noise of smashing glass and loud voices. “Dad, what’s going on?! Where are you?”

“I’m at the shop. Belle, lock the door to the house. Don’t answer it for anyone! Do you understand?”

“Dad! What’s going on?” Belle was shaking. What was happening? She had no idea what to do.

“Trust me.” and with that ominous warning, Maurice hung up the phone, leaving Belle feeling very vulnerable and very very afraid.

She had done as he’d said, locked the door and for good measure, she’d turned out the lights to make it seem as though no-one were home. Then she’d returned to the couch, cowering under her blanket, mumbling quiet prayers that her father was safe.

A loud banging on the door, startled her and it was only the hand she’d clapped to her mouth which prevented her from screaming.

“Belle! Belle!” a voice began to yell, banging frantically on the door.

“Father?” Belle recognised the voice, and hurried to the spy hole to peek out. Sure enough her father was stood on the doorstep, his eyes wide, checking over his shoulder.

“Hurry Belle! Let me in.” Belle hurriedly unlocked the door to admit her father before slamming it shut and locking it tight again.

Maurice looked terrible. His face was pale and his eyes were terrified. His hair was wild and he had a bloody nose and a bruise forming on his cheek. He stumbled into the kitchen, slumping into a chair at the table. Belle rushed to his side, gently assessing the wounds on his face.

“What happened?” she asked as she searched for some frozen peas to place on his swollen cheek.

“I was locking up the shop,” he began, wincing as the cold touched his skin, “when this man entered. I told him we were closed but he trapped me inside, telling me that I owed him money.”

“Who was he?” Belle gasped.

“ A loan shark. I haven’t borrowed money from him in years, not since I first set up the business.”

“Oh father.” Belle bit her lip in worry. Maurice looked shaken and upset but he continued with his story.

“He never liked me. Always preferred your mother. I told him that I didn’t owe him a dime and that’s when it turned ugly.”

Belle was afraid. How badly had they hurt her father. Sensing her concern, Maurice chuckled.

“Don’t worry Belle, a few bruises and a bloody nose is the least of our worries.” he stumbled, “They… well, Belle they…”

Maurice struggled and so Belle placed her hand on his for comfort.

“They destroyed the shop.” he choked. Belle gasped, her hand rushing to her face.

The shop hadn’t been much, but it had been their everything. Belle’s mother had opened it when they’d first moved to this town. Since her death, Belle had worked so hard, alongside her diligent father to keep it above water. There wasn’t a huge demand for florists in a town as small as this, but they made enough to put food on the table. Destroyed. Destroyed…everything destroyed.

“What do you mean?” she whispered, fighting back tears.

“They smashed it to bits. All the stock is destroyed. The windows smashed… the till emptied…” he didn’t continue.

Belle knew her father hadn’t the money to fix the shop. Now he also had no source of income.

“But…why?” she asked, gripping his shoulder.

He took a deep breath.

“Because Belle, in this world, there are monsters…beasts.” he spat, “But you must remember, all beasts can be slain…” he looked up at her, his eyes sparkling, a grin playing at his lips, he took her hand. “Remember Belle. Do the brave thing and bravery will follow. Your mother always said that and she was always right…”

Maurice stopped talking and rose from his chair.

“Your mother said that to me the day we bought the shop. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to afford it, that it would fail and then what would we do? But she looked me in the eyes and she said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ and I like to think I always have.”

“You have.” Belle whispered, tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m sorry Dad.”

He pulled her into a hug, whispering to her “Don’t worry Belle. We’ll find a way.”

The months following this tragedy had been tough. They had struggled with what little savings they had to put food on the table and to begin making repairs on the shop. There were nights where they had eaten by candlelight as the electricity bill couldn’t be paid. Through all this time, Belle longed to run away, to leave this dreadful town, but she couldn’t abandon her father.

She’s spent her days helping him repair the shop. Cleaning up glass, throwing away ripped up flowers and helping him haul broken furniture into the street to be taken away. Belle felt more lonely than ever. Her father, although he was always there, was more distant and seemed to be feeling the loss of his shop more keenly than Belle had expected. He would stop his cleaning suddenly, holding onto some broken item in his hand, a sad look on his face. Belle didn’t dare interrupt. This shop was all that was left of her mother and it had meant the world to Maurice. She let him have his privacy.

One such time, Belle had busied herself by the broken shop window, knocking out the smashed pains of glass with a mask over her face. She was so absorbed in the work, being careful not to cut herself, that when she heard the voice she jumped a mile in the air.

There was a tall and muscled man leaning against the outside frame.

“Hi.” he repeated. Grinning broadly at her. He had the chiselled face of a man who was proud of his appearance. Belle supposed that he was quite handsome but not at all her type.

“Hi.” she replied, pulling down the mask protecting her face from the glass, and flashing him a quick smile.

“I’m Gaston.” he continued, seeming pleased to have caught her attention. “I heard what happened here. I’m sorry.”

Belle was taken aback. “Oh..err…thanks. I’m Belle and yeah it looks pretty bad right now, but Dad and I are hoping to get it sorted soon.”

Gaston took a look around at the destruction and old Maurice in the corner and raised an amused eyebrow. “Really?” he asked, sounding disbelieving.

Belle blushed. “Er… yeah actually.”

“Well.” Gaston said, suddenly lunging through the broken window into the shop, forcing Belle to step backwards to avoid being pressed close to his chest. She stumbled in surprise but a large hand caught her round the back.

Gaston smiled at her and thrust her back to her feet. She blushed wildly, feeling embarrassed and confused.

“As I was saying,” he continued, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and looking around, “it looks like you could use some help.”

Belle was a little shocked. She wasn’t used to people in this town offering help.

“Oh…wow! Well…err we can’t pay you…” she trailed off.

“I don’t need money.” Gaston laughed, brushing her statement away with a flick of his hand. “But you could always pay me back by going on a date with me?”

His forwardness made Belle cringe, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was grinning in a way he obviously thought was charming.

“Erm…” really Belle had no choice. Gaston wasn’t wrong, they needed help and he was a strong young man who would easily be able to lift the broken furniture… It sure would get the work done faster… “Err…yeah ok.” she agreed, feeling a little bit sick.

“Excellent.” Gaston beamed, clapping his large hands together and moving to lift a pile of splintered wood easily out of the shop.

With Gaston’s help, the shop was cleared quickly and work on the repairs could begin. Belle felt a little bit useless when he showed up one day with a team of his strapping friends in tow to help him rebuild the little florists. They set to work and within a week, the place was starting to look much better.

Belle had been left to start painting the newly repaired walls, while Gaston and his friends finished fitting new windows. She had asked her father about the colour, but he hadn’t minded so she’d picked out a nice shade of pale blue and spent most of the summer days in her scruffiest clothes painting the walls.

Her choice of outfit was mostly for practicality, it didn’t seem sensible to ruin good clothes with paint, but it was also an attempt to deter Gaston who was getting more and more flirtatious as the days passed. Belle appreciated his help and she was a woman of her word, so their date would go ahead, but his constant presence made her uneasy. He was too comfortable around her; trapping her to his side in a possessive hug whenever he spoke with her or placing a heavy hand on her shoulder whenever he saw her.

He also made some very questionable jokes which his friends loved, but which Belle found most inappropriate. She was longing for the day to come when the shop would be complete, so that she could get the date out of the way and move on with her life. Gaston wasn’t going to let her go that easily though. He was determined, it seemed, to have her as his girlfriend. Belle was no fool and when he told the admiring young women who had begun to gather outside the shop each day that he unfortunately “had his eyes on someone” she knew he meant her.

As summer drew to a close, the shop was finally finished and Belle was very very relieved. For the final day of repairs, she’d baked a beautiful red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting and had bought some champagne to take to those who had helped rebuild to celebrate. The volunteers devoured the cake hungrily and Maurice beamed as he looked around his newly restored shop.

“I can’t thank you enough.” he gushed, “This shop means the world to me and we couldn’t have rebuilt it without you… most especially you Gaston. Thank you for your kindness.”

Gaston flashed Belle a grin before stepping forward to make a speech, which mostly praised himself, and the volunteers all clapped loudly. As everyone said their goodbyes and made to leave, Belle was going to return home with her father when a cough from behind her made her turn around.

Gaston was leaning against the new shop counter. “I believe we had a deal Belle.”

Belle felt her stomach sink.

“Oh yeah.” she grimaced.

Gaston extended an arm, which Belle took reluctantly and led her out of the shop. And that is the story of how Belle began a two year relationship with the man of her nightmares.


	2. Winds of Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your support guys! Enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! x

CHAPTER 2- WINDS OF CHANGE

 

Belle began to heave the heavy box of books up the stairs, feeling with each step, a sense of pride and achievement as she was closer than ever to the beginning of her life and her independence.

The box was full of books, she had so many back at home that it had taken a while for her to decided whether she need take all of them. She’d left a couple on her father’s bookshelf but had packed the rest into a series of flimsy cardboard boxes, ready to be relocated to the new bookshelf in her new apartment. The stairs were steep and her arms were aching as she reached the top, staggering towards the end of the corridor and her new home.

Maurice was waiting in the doorway, his arms outstretched to take the box from her and to place it with the others. She smiled at him and handed it over. “Goodness Belle,” he sagged under the weight, “why do you have so many books?!”

“Because I happen to like them.” she huffed, turning to close the door behind her.

It felt good to have her own apartment. For years she’d been dreaming of moving away, not from her father per say but mostly from that town that she hated so much. She had to admit though, that as she’d been deciding on what to take and what to throw away, she had found herself in tears more times than she could count. She was a three hour drive from her father now and that thought scared her. She’d taken to comforting herself by remembering that this meant she was also three hours away from Gaston.

Belle had been with Gaston for nearly two and a half years and everyday she amused herself by inventing new ways to break up with him however in reality, she’d never so much as denied him a date. Gaston had a unique way of distracting her, cornering her or just plain ignoring her ideas that meant no matter how hard she tried she always seemed to be back in his arms. She hadn’t loved him. She had barely liked him. But being linked to him meant that the people of the town had been more loving towards her than ever before. The women were jealous, for some reason they viewed Gaston with the same reverence as a God. He was followed constantly by a giggling group of flustered girls. Belle hated that, she also hated the fact that he enjoyed their company. She didn’t want to be with Gaston, but ignoring this fact she believed that seeing as though they were together, he should at least treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

He never asked about her day, rather told her about his own. He never knew what was wrong with her if she was down and most times never thought to ask. He didn’t know her favourite author, or book, or movie or band. Hell, she wasn’t sure he even knew her surname! Gaston had tried to propose to her on every Birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving and Valentines Day but just as he was good at preventing her from splitting with him, she was clever and knew how to deflect him on every proposal.

Everything from tripping a waiter to spill wine down her dress to disrupt his proposal to pretending to faint right before he got down on one knee. Belle wasn’t going to marry Gaston. She knew his vision of a wife and she really didn’t fit it. She didn’t want to become a housewife who provided him with freshly cooked meals and ‘strapping young men’ as he’d called them. The thought of sleeping with Gaston made her feel sick. That’s why, after his sixth attempt at a proposal, Belle had taken action. Later that night, she’d gone online and emailed her old college professor. He’d always been kind to her and had advised her well, telling her to leave this town as soon as she graduated, he’d even offered to set her up with a contact of his in Maine who might have had a job for her. He was an unusual man, rather strict with his students but ultimately caring. She’d thanked him for his offer but after the fiasco with the shop, had emailed him to let him know that her circumstance had changed and although she was grateful, she couldn’t leave the town just yet. He’d been disappointed but understood. Now she emailed him with a desperate plea. She asked him if he could help her leave, explaining about how her father would be fine without her but she wouldn't be fine if she stayed. Feeling drained and embarrassed by her grovelling email, she decided to retire to bed early, wondering if he’d ever answer…after all she’d been left three years…maybe he didn’t remember her.

The next morning had brought a miracle all wrapped up in an email. To her great surprise, the professor had answered.

_Dear Miss French,_

_How lovely to hear from you! I’m pleased to hear that you resolved the issue with your father’s shop. A bright young woman such as yourself shouldn’t be cooped up in a town like this so I’m delighted to find that you’re looking to move onwards and upwards!_

_I’ve emailed my contact in Maine and I’m waiting on a reply. I gave you a sterling reference and no doubt she’ll be pleased to offer you the job. I hope you don’t mind, I passed on your contact details and told her to call you at any time._

_I wish you all the best luck Belle! Do stay in touch!_

_Professor Cogsworth_

She beamed at her computer screen and quickly tapped out a reply,

_Dear Prof. C_

_Thank you so much! I’m very excited and I just hope your contact thinks I’m capable! Of course I’ll stay in touch, I can’t thank you enough, you might have just changed my life!_

_Yours,_

_Belle French_

It was with a new spring in her step that Belle had headed to work that morning. She beamed as she walked down the street not even shivering in the newly autumnal air, her arms loaded with paperwork and keys. She was nearly at the shop when she saw a familiar figure heading towards her. Cursing her luck, she hurried to the shop door, hoping to unlock it in time to slip in before she was noticed, however-

“Belle!” a booming voice from behind her called. A hand slipped around her waist and turned her to face the owner. Gaston was doing his ‘charming smile’ and Belle half-heartedly returned it.

“How is my perfect little flower this morning?” he asked. She cringed at his cheesy line. Cheesy and possessive. The two words that best described Gaston.

“Wonderful, actually.” she smiled, feeling vindictive. “I have good news.”

“Oh!” Gaston raised an eyebrow. “What a coincidence, so do I.”

Typical.

“Shall we go inside?” Belle indicated to the door, against which he was pinning her.

“Lead the way.” he gestured.

Belle unlocked the shop and headed inside, dropping her paperwork on the counter and turning to face Gaston who had placed his foot on the low windowsill and was standing with his hands on his hips.

“Right.” she sighed, clapping her hands together. ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’.

Remembering her father’s advice, Belle began.

“Gaston…I’ve been offered a job.” This wasn’t strictly true.

“Very nice Belle.” he said, his eyes not on her, picking his teeth.

“It’s in…well it’s in Maine.”

“What a shame.” Gaston replied, now slapping his lips.

“Yes I supp- wait…” Belle stopped, “What a shame?”

“Yes.” Gaston looked up, “Well you can’t work a job in Maine Belle, you live at least three hours from there! How would you get to work each morning?” he laughed.

She huffed. Oh now she was sure she deserved better than him.

“I wasn’t going to travel three hours each mor-“

“Belle. I said I have good news, now lets put the sadness of your news behind us shall we?” Gaston interrupted.

Belle was furious. She moved herself to sit on the counter and glared at him.

“My news, Belle,” Gaston sank to one knee. “is that we are soon to be wed.” he opened a velvet ring box, revealing a diamond ring.

Belle snorted. She was too angry with him to make an excuse.

“No we are not Gaston.” She replied, sliding down from the counter.

“No?” he asked, looking confused.

“No. Because I did not say yes.” she said bluntly, folding her arms at her chest.

“Oh?” Gaston rose, looking angry. “And why not?”

“Because, “ Belle moved around him, so her back was too the door. “I could never love a man who is not interested in my life or happiness.”

Gaston looked outraged.

“How can you say that? If I wasn’t interested in your happiness, then why would I offer you the opportunity of becoming my wife?! Something I know will make you happier than anyone? There are hundreds of girls in this world who would love the honour, Belle, but I chose you because I know it will make you happy.”

Belle couldn’t believe it. She was sure her mouth was hanging open.

“Gaston. My answer is no.” and with that she swept into the back room.

When she emerged about ten minutes later, the shop was empty. She felt shaky but pleased and triumphant all the same. She’d finally done what she had been desperate to do since their first date two and half years ago. She stepped slowly into the shop. Looking around, checking she was truly alone, before clapping her hands and scrunching her eyes closed with a beaming big true smile gracing her face for the first time in years. She spun happily and jumped when she saw that someone was standing in the doorway. Feeling flustered at having been caught celebrating and shaky from the fright of the customer which at first she thought had been Gaston returning; she stumbled and hurried to the counter.

“I’m sorry, how can I help you?” she asked, straightening her skirt.

“Celebrating something, dearie?” the customer asked, stepping into the shop.

She noticed for the first time that he walked with a cane.

“Er…” she felt awkward telling a stranger her life story, but excited from her success and desperate to share the news. “I suppose so..yeah. I just…I broke up with my boyfriend… I think.” she grinned sheepishly.

The man raised an eyebrow.

“Surely that is not a usual response?” he asked softly.

“No. I suppose not.” she giggled. “Never mind though! How can I help?”

The man purchased a bouquet of flowers that had been made up the day before and left the shop in under five minutes. Belle was alone again and the first thing she did was check her emails. There was still no word from the contact in Maine. She felt nervous. Now that she had ended things with Gaston, she needed to move away, to start a life of her own. She was lost to her thoughts when her father entered the shop.

“Good morning my dear!” he called, smiling. “How are you today?”

“Excellent! You?”

“Never better.”

As Belle watched her father tie an apron round his waist she felt her stomach sink. She hadn’t told him her plans yet. How would he take the news? She didn’t want to break his heart…

“Something wrong, Belle?” Maurice asked, looking at his daughter, whose face had fallen.

She shook herself.

“No. Nothing at all” composing her face into a smile.

There was no point worrying him yet, she hadn’t even got the job… It was then that her phone rang and with a squeak she dashed into the back room.


	3. When life gives you lemons...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your continued support! Enjoy x

CHAPTER 3- WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS

With trembling fingers she answered the call.

“Belle French speaking.”

“Ah, Miss French. Regina Mills here. An old colleague of mine contacted me and asked whether I had a job available for you. As it so happens, I do.”

There was a swooping sensation in Belle’s stomach, akin to that when you miss a step walking downstairs.

“Oh…Wow.” was all she could manage.

The woman on the end of the phone, snorted. “Is that all Miss French? I would suggest that you ask about the job.”

“Oh yeah!” Belle started out of her shock “Erm…what kind of job is it?” she asked lamely, blushing bright red and feeling very stupid, thankful that at least the woman couldn’t see her face.

“I need someone to reopen the town library. It’s been closed for many years. It needs refurbishing inside and then managing. The collections need sorting etc etc.” she sounded a little bored.

But Belle’s heart was glowing.

Her favourite place in the world was the local library and though she loved it, she recognised that it wasn’t particularly good. Nothing filled her with equal amounts of pleasure and fear as being in charge of her own library.

“It would be my pleasure Ms Mills.” she gushed.

“Fantastic. We have a budget you’ll have full control over and I’ll not interfere too much. As mayor, however, it is my responsibility to make sure that you are doing your job correctly. Only major thing is that I’ll need you to make sure the library is used otherwise the funding will be cut.”

“Of course.” Belle felt sure this was a job she could do with every elaboration Regina Mills made. “When do I start?”

“Monday. Call me when you get into town. I’ve put all the information in an email.”

And with that Mayor Mills hung up. Belle stood for a moment. Her face was red and flushed, her hands were trembling and her stomach felt sick with butterflies. But she was ecstatic…then without warning, she burst into happy tears.

Her father came hurrying into the room.

“Belle? What’s happened? Are you alright?” He was full of concern and looked down right alarmed.

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” she yelped, wiping her eyes and beaming.

“Then what…?” he trailed off, confusion written plainly in every line of his face.

“I’ve been offered an amazing job Dad.”

For a second he looked stunned. She was afraid he might be angry. After all, any job would mean leaving him to run the shop alone. She waited, with each passing second feeling like she might explode. Then his face split into a grin and he wrapped her in his arms.

“I’m so proud of you Belle!” She smiled into his shoulder, surprised at his response and delighted all the same.

“I’ve got to reopen the town library and then get the place running successfully. Oh Dad, it’s my dream job!” He released her, his face puzzled.

“But Belle,” he twitched, “the town library is already open and running fine?” Belle felt really sick. She trembled.

“Err…I know.” “Then-“ he began but realisation dawned in his eyes and he stopped speaking abruptly.

“It’s…it’s in Maine.” Belle stuttered. Watching Maurice’s face almost broke her heart.

“Oh.” was all he could say.

There was an awkward silence hanging over them.

“I’ll not take the job, if you don’t want me too.” Belle whispered after an age, tears stinging her eyes. Maurice looked up sharply. Then he pulled her back into a hug.

“Oh Belle. Of course I want you to take this job! It’s what you’re meant to do! It’s perfect. Perfect like you.” he smiled a watery smile.

Belle wiped away the tears that had fallen on her face.

“But it means you’ll be alone.” He smiled.

“I know that Belle, but I always knew the day would come when you’d leave me. I don’t want to keep you trapped here like a bird in a cage. I’ll be fine. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

And so now everyone knew. Gaston knew. Her father knew. Now it was really happening and Belle felt nervous and excited all at the same time.


	4. Chapter 4- Inside these empty walls

**CHAPTER 4- INSIDE THESE EMPTY WALLS...**

Maurice had placed the final box on top of the tower of precariously stacked belongings in the middle of the apartment. Belle beamed as she looked around. It was an open plan flat with a small kitchen by the door which linked to the space in which they were stood. To the left was a small bedroom and ensuite bathroom. It was small and it was a little run down but it was hers.

Maurice rolled up his sleeves and turned to Belle.

“Well. Do you want me to stay?” he asked, looking around.

“You’re quite welcome too Dad but if you’d rather go home and come back in a few days when I’ve got the place sorted, then that’s fine too.” Belle answered, stepping towards the mountain of boxes and planning her attack.

Maurice chuckled before kissing her cheek and hugging her tight.

“I’ll be back in three days, Belle.” he smiled before opening the door. “Don’t forget to call.”

And with that he closed the door leaving Belle alone to relish both the silence and her independence.

She began by dragging the boxes into the rooms in which they belonged. Then, feeling sweaty and exhausted, she slumped to the floor, leaning against her living room wall and stared out of the beautiful bay windows. She had a beautiful view of the forest which she vaguely knew was near the edge of the town. She took out her phone and checked her messages. There was one from her father.

_I'm very proud of you, my beautiful Belle- Dad x_

She smiled, shoving the phone back in her pocket. They’d stopped for lunch in a diner a few miles out from Storybrooke so Belle figured she’d unpack as much as she could now, then go out later to find a store and buy groceries so she could make dinner.

She started unpacking with the kitchen boxes. She was halfway through unwrapping the mugs when there was a knock at the door. She looked up, then made her way over.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman with a pixie cut, holding out a plate of cookies.

“Hi!” she said brightly.

“Hi!” Belle replied, smiling.

“I’m Mary-Margaret. I heard from Regina that you were moving in today and I thought I’d pop over and say…welcome!” she smiled at Belle.

“Oh, yeah, I got here about an hour ago actually. I’m Belle.” Belle smiled, stepping aside, “Would you like to come in. I’m afraid I haven't been shopping yet so I can’t offer you tea.”

“Don’t worry about it. I brought these for you by the way.” Mary Margaret pointed at the cookies.

“Oh! Thanks.” Belle grinned and placed them on the counter. This neighbourhood sure was friendlier than her last one!

“Would you like help unpacking?” Mary Margaret offered, seeing the stacked boxes and half unwrapped mugs.

Belle felt bad saying yes, but she had been regretting letting her father go. At the rate she was going she wouldn't be unpacked until next week.

“If you don’t mind. I guess I brought more stuff than I realised.” she chuckled and so did her guest.

“So, “ Mary-Margaret began, lifting a box of kitchen stuff onto the counter and starting to unpack. “what brings you to sleepy little Storybrooke, Belle?”

And that was the beginning of a friendship. Belle had rambled on about her life in her old little town and how she’d left Gaston and about her father and the shop and the professor who got her the job and before she knew it, she and Mary Margaret were sat on the floor in her half-unpacked but furniture-bare living room, eating cookies and watching the sun set on her first day of living alone.

She’d learned that Mary Margaret was a teacher and she’d been all excited to hear that Belle was going to reopen the library, promising to bring her class there as soon as it was ready. Around seven o’clock, her guest stood up, dusting off the cookie crumbs from her legs.

“Well I’d best be going.” she said with a smile. “I go volunteering at the hospital early in the morning.”

Belle expressed her admiration and rose too, leading her new friend to the door.

“I guess I’ll see you soon Belle! Call if you need anything.” she smiled and Belle thanked her again for her help and the cookies as she disappeared down the hallway.

Now alone, Belle yawned and locked the front door. She had no TV to watch or sofa to curl up on, so she opted to head to bed and read for a while. Technically ‘bed’ wasn’t correct. The frame from her old bed was not really in good enough condition given that it was about 20 years old, so she’d left it behind. Tonight she had the pleasure of sleeping on a mattress on the floor, with boxes stacked against the walls and a little bedside lamp plugged into the wall, it’s wire trailing along the peeling carpet floor.

Despite the lacking decor, as Belle snuggled down under the many quilts and pillows, she couldn’t help feel that there was nowhere she’d rather be right now. This was her house, that she had acquired on her own and though right now it seemed a little run down, she was sure that in a few weeks time it would be her own little perfect space. She thumbed back the pages of her book and settled down to read, but despite her love of this particular story, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering. It seemed tonight would be a night for reflecting rather than dreaming so, sighing, she dropped her book to the floor by her head and stared up at the dimly lit ceiling, allowing her mind to run free.

She had never felt so blissfully free. She had no Gaston to worry about, no Dad to worry about and no obligations at all, except for the job she was starting on Monday which she didn’t even feel nervous about. Something inside her head was sure that she could do this and do it well; if she was going to be honest with herself, she was more excited than anxious and she had even considered dropping into town tomorrow to have a quick look at the library before her first day. That thought soothed her and she dreamed of what she’d find. Books, books and more books hopefully!

Belle soon felt herself falling asleep. The apartment was quiet, peaceful and she felt safe in it’s walls. She snuggled further down into her blanket fortress and sighed contentedly, finally feeling that adventure was on her horizon.


	5. Chapter 5- Supermarkets and Pawnbrokers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I hope you're enjoying the story all the same! I hope to update more often, if I'm being honest I totally forgot about it haha! x

CHAPTER 5- Supermarkets and Pawnbrokers

Belle was shivering. Her whole body was wracked with cold. It was biting at her skin and she felt uncomfortable and thus she was now also awake. It was dark and for a moment she felt extremely disorientated. Then she remembered why she was so low on the ground. She had woken up, her blankets on the floor, freezing in her new apartment.

“Fantastic.” she groaned, scrambling on the floor to drag the quilt back over her goose pimpled body. She wouldn’t sleep now, of that she was sure, and so she staggered out of the room, dragging the quilt with her. Luckily, it wasn’t the middle of the night. The large bay windows in her living room revealed the telltale signs of early morning as pink and lilac sky peaked through the trees. She had to admit, it was rather beautiful outside. The early morning dew gave the leaves on the trees the glimmering look of diamonds. Belle shuffled to the window, staring out into the day and smiled. Today she was free to do as she pleased and that was something to grin about.

She was hungry now that she was awake, but there was still no food in her house. She groaned and stumbled back into her bedroom, throwing the quilt onto her makeshift bed and shivering as she dropped to her knees to scout out some clothes from the many boxes on the floor.

She managed to find a skirt in the first box that wasn’t too badly crinkled and a few boxes later she found some woollen tights, some pants and she decided to just wear her bra from the day before. Half-dressed and still freezing, Belle set about trying to find a blouse that would match the skirt. It took her ages before she finally ripped open a box which had some old jumpers and t-shirts in. Feeling fed up and starting to go numb with the cold, she grabbed a matching jumper and slung it over her head. 

She was now getting really hungry and didn’t know how long it might take her to find a supermarket, so after quickly sorting her hair and brushing her teeth, she shrugged into her coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck and slipped on her boots. She was out of the door soon after and on her way to the town centre.

The air was cold and crisp, as she’d expected and she was pleased for the scarf as she headed away from the apartment building, in the direction of the road her father had driven down which she vaguely remembered leading to the town. Few cars passed her but she hadn’t expected many, after all it was a quiet town and it was still rather early.

 

She enjoyed the walk. Storybrooke was situated nicely and the forest to her right was a pleasant sight, looking inviting in the morning air. She supposed that she might go running there someday or maybe just stroll. She had been walking for a while and was beginning to feel cold when suddenly she turned a corner and found herself at the start of what appeared to be the high street.

It had been hidden by the overgrown trees and bushes along the roadside and as she rounded the corner she realised that there was a footpath running parallel to the road on the other side of the trees. ‘Probably a safer route in future’ she thought to herself as she joined the path and began her journey up the high street.

Despite being a little town, the street wasn’t bare. It had a butcher’s, grocer’s, a pharmacy, a book store (somewhere she would definitely be visiting), a florist which reminded her of her father and loads of other little cafe’s and clothes shops. She was only half watching the shops, mostly she was watching the people. The street was bustling, despite the early hour. She supposed that people were heading to work or school. Some of the shops were still closed or rolling up shutters. Belle smiled at a few passers by. She saw the school bus drive past and noted the bus stop by one of the shops. She’d need to remember that, it might come in handy.

Belle could drive, she’d passed her test like most of her classmates, but owning and running a car was not practical on the budget she lived on. Her father couldn’t afford to buy her a car and she’d used up her savings on college, years ago. Now she lived hand to mouth, with the occasional left over each month. This month, that extra was for furniture. Her father had given her what he could to buy herself some furniture and she’d had a little in the bank from birthday gifts. 

A bed was a priority. As was a sofa, she guessed. She also needed to get groceries and remember to speak to the landlady about getting some gas and electric. Actually…did she have hot water? This morning she’d only needed cold. She ought to check that later when she-

“Oof.” Belle had bumped into something very solid.

“Hey sister! Watch where you’re going.” 

Belle had walked straight into a small man with a rough voice and a cold face. He frowned angrily at her before stepping aside and storming off, before she'd even had a change to apologise. She was left standing in the street feeling foolish and a little shaken.

She set off once more, taking extra care to watch where she was going. Suddenly the little town didn’t feel quite so idilic. She noted that passers by didn’t look up and smile at her and the once sunny morning was turning cloudy quickly. Belle was hungry and she was yet to set eyes upon a supermarket, so she kept walking, more quickly now, drawing her coat tighter around her shivering body.

 

She hadn’t gone far before a little shop on her left caught her eye. It wasn’t a supermarket and it wasn't garish or oddly named like some of the other stores on the street. Rather it had a sign saying merely ‘Mr Gold, Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer’. She wasn’t sure why it had caught her eye. Perhaps it was its radical difference from the other high street shops, being less brightly coloured and altogether less welcoming.

It was dark inside, or at least very dimly lit. The window was covered by a grated blind, but between the slats she could see a collection of unusual items. The little sign in the door window said ‘Sorry, we’re closed’ and yet something told her that the door was unlocked.

Feeling strangely drawn to the dim little shop, she placed a hand on the doorknob and pushed. Sure enough, her instinct had been correct and the door swung open, a bell above it tinkling. Belle gasped as she stood framed in the doorway. The shop was filled from floor to roof with unusual objects. Even from outside Belle could spy tea sets, chess pieces, hats, pocket watches, swords and daggers, clocks, walking sticks, unusual jars and beautiful jewellery boxes. Unconsciously she took a step forward into the shop. It was silent but for the ticking of the clocks.

“We’re closed, dearie.”

She jumped, startled and stumbled backwards, thudding gracelessly into the doorframe.

“Ouch.” she yelped.

She looked around for the source of the voice and almost missed the shadowed outline of a man stood between the counter and the curtain that she supposed led to the back room. She couldn’t see his face but he was small and slight from what she could see and he appeared to be leaning on a golden topped cane. Something about him frightened Belle. His posture looked powerful and yet… not at all…

“Sorry.” she blushed. “I…I just…I’m new in town and I was looking for furniture and…” she trailed off..

The man didn’t move didn’t move.

“That’s alright.” he said, his voice soft and dangerous . “But we still don’t open until nine.”

Belle was intrigued and she couldn't place why. She nodded slowly and backed out into the morning brightness.

“Sorry.” she mumbled, closing the door behind her.

The light of the street was a shock to her eyes. She stood, back to the door of the shop and took stock. She felt nervous and looked down to see her hands were trembling. How could her new home have gone from bright and exciting to mysterious and unfriendly in the time it took to walk into town? Belle wasn’t feeling quite so confident as she continued on her search for a supermarket, but about one thing she was now certain; she needed to revisit the strange pawnbroker’s shop.


	6. Chapter 6- Falling

CHAPTER 6- Falling

Belle had seriously underestimated the distance between the town centre and her apartment. 

She was struggling; her arms laden with heavy shopping bags, her legs aching and she was not even nearly half way home. Hell, she wasn’t even halfway down the high street! 

She had to stop. One of the bags was splitting and she feared that eggs were about cascade to the floor and ruin her shoes. She stopped and lowered the bags to the floor, being extra careful not to crush the eggs. Without the weight on her arms she was able to stretch them out and feeling began to return to her fingers. She sighed in relief but it immediately turned to a groan of discontent went she remembered the bags that she still had to carry all the way home. She slumped against the wall behind her and huffed as she noticed it was beginning to spot with rain. She cursed her luck, struggling to pull up the hood of her coat.

The rain went from ‘not much’ to ‘a whole lot’ in the space of a few seconds and suddenly Belle found herself stood in the pouring rain, covering her bags fruitlessly with her arms and wondering what on Earth she was going to do. 

She still hadn't eaten and it was nearly lunch time. It had taken her so long to find the supermarket that by the time she’d actually done her shopping, escaped the overly chatty sales assistant and struggled down the street with her arms overloaded with shopping bags it was nearly midday and she was ready to crash.

She couldn’t decide whether she would rather power on, sweep up the bags and storm purposefully home or whether she’d rather slump to the floor in a tantrum in the rain and cry. She had almost made her decision and was about to slump, when a door opened behind her and made her jump.

“Oh!” she yelped, stumbling and tripping over one of her bags. A hand grabbed her before she fell, wrapping tightly around her wrist.

For a moment, she was too stunned and too startled to move, then another hand touched her shoulder and pulled her back to her feet.

“Are you alright?” a voice she vaguely recognised, said gently.

Belle looked up and her eyes met with a pair she hadn’t seen before.

“Yes…I’m…yes thank you.” she replied, stammering and brushing off her skirt.

“Good.” replied the helpful stranger, letting go of her wrist. Now she had a chance to see the person properly. He wasn’t tall, with shoulder-length hair, greying in parts; his eyes were a golden brown and his face was lined and stern. Belle smiled at him, but he didn’t return it, instead he nodded once and turned away from her.

Belle watched him leave, he limped away resting heavily on a cane and it was this that reminded her of the man in the shop who had frightened her earlier. She struggled to believe that her helpful stranger had been him; but as she watched him drive away, leaving her stood alone in the rain with her bags, she found it easier to believe. 

By the time she had finally made it home, Belle was soaked to the skin and exhausted. She was ready to pass out from hunger and she was in a terrible mood. Dumped her bags in the kitchen, she put the kettle on and stood, resting against the bench, waiting impatiently for it to boil.

She was getting increasingly close to tears of frustration when her phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Miss French? It’s Mayor Mills.”

Belle stood up straight quickly, composing herself.

“Oh…Hi!”

“Yes, I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you into the library tomorrow, so I’ve left the keys at Granny’s Diner, just up the high street. If you ask at the counter, someone will give them to you. I’ll try and stop by in the afternoon but do let yourself in and get started.”

“Yes that’s not a problem. Thank you Mayor Mills.”

“Right well, goodbye Miss French, good luck!”

And with that the Mayor was gone.

Belle spent the evening researching the bus timetable, the town map and the library history in hopes that it would prepare her for the next day. By the time evening fell, the rain outside was unrelenting and she was starting to feel cold. Things were taking a downward turn. She felt a little deflated, if she was honest and was beginning to lose confidence in her independence. What had started out as a bright daydream of a new life, was turning quickly into a lonely disappointing struggle; something Belle hadn’t accounted for.

She decided to get an early night and so she curled up in her little makeshift bed, the room lit with lamps and candles on the floor and she read her book until she fell into a disturbing sleep.


	7. Chapter 7- Helpful Elves and Dusty Shelves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Do drop me a message or a comment and let me know what you think! x

CHAPTER 7- HELPFUL ELVES AND DUSTY SHELVES

 

Belle’s first day at the library was…interesting… 

First, she struggled to find the diner in the morning. When she finally did, she was way laid by a very friendly waitress named Ruby who wanted to know everything about her. While it was nice to chat, Belle was very aware of time ticking on and by the time she was out of the door with the keys to the library it was nearly 10am. 

She hurried down the street to the large building which, she was sure, would soon become a second home to her. The sky was grey but the day was bright and the air clear, it felt like rain was on the cards. When she finally reached the large double doors to the library, she found to her extreme annoyance that they wouldn’t open. 

They were very old and seized shut with rusty hinges and broken locks. Try as she might she couldn’t get it to budge. She let out a frustrated yell and rattled the door uselessly. She felt like screaming and was about to give up and call the Mayor for help when she heard a voice behind her.

“It’s closed dearie.” 

Belle turned around quickly. The man from the little shop, who had so intrigued her was standing there, leaning heavily on his cane and smirking amusedly at her struggle.

“Oh I know, but I have the keys.” Belle jingled the keys which were still sticking out of the door. “It’s just stuck.” she huffed, crossing her arms in front of her.

“May I ask why you have the keys?” the man asked, shifting his position.

“Regina Mills has employed me to take care of the library…get it up and running again.” Belle smiled, “I’m sure I can do it, if I can ever get the front door open…”

The man gave her a half smile, then stepped forward.

“May I?” he asked, indicating the door.

“Be my guest.” Belle replied stepping back.

The man rested his cane against the wall, rolled up his sleeves and pulled at the door. It didn’t move an inch and Belle couldn’t suppress her giggle.

The man shot her a look of annoyance before returning his attention to the door. 

“Hey Belle!” 

Belle turned to see Ruby from the diner approaching.

“Oh hi, Ruby!” Belle smiled.

“What’s going on?” Ruby asked, glaring suspiciously at the man tugging at the door.

“The door is stuck. We can’t get it open.” Belle explained.

“Morning, Mr Gold.” Ruby said coldly. The man turned and nodded at her. 

This exchange struck Belle as odd. Why did the two seem so unfriendly? 

“Belle, want me to give you a tour of the town tonight?” Ruby winked and Belle had a suspicion that she meant a tour of the bars rather than the tourist sites.

Belle laughed. “Maybe not tonight Ruby, I’ll be tired after work, but maybe this weekend?”

“Sure.” Ruby shrugged. “Stop by the diner at lunch?” she added as she began to walk away.

“Yeah, I will!” Belle promised, waving her off. “Bye Ruby!”

“See you Belle! Good Luck with the library!”

Belle made to turn back to Mr Gold, feeling more confident now that she was armed with the knowledge of his name but the sight of him standing by the now open door, leaning back on his cane stole all the wind from her sails.

Belle hadn’t even heard the crunch of the door opening…

“Wow!” Belle gasped, Mr Gold smiled quickly. “Thank you! I didn’t even hear it open!”

“Not a problem.” he turned to walk away but Belle wasn’t quite finished with him yet.

“Wait! Mr Gold.” she burst out, stepping in front of him. He stopped in surprise.

“Yes.” his face was unreadable but the use of his name had clearly startled him.

“I’m Belle French.” she held out a hand which he glanced at before taking very gently and shaking once.

“Very nice to meet you Miss French.” he dropped her hand quickly. “Enjoy the library.” 

This time, she wasn’t able to stop him from limping away back down the street alone.

“Enjoy the library.”

That stuck with her as she walked into the old building. Everyone else had said ‘Good Luck’…

Belle stepped into the entrance of the library. Dust swirled in the golden light from the open doorway. The place was dark and dusty with towering shelves and a counter by the door. Belle beamed, turning to pin the double doors open. She looked around at the dimly lit shelves, books piled high and revealed in the half light. The place felt like home already. She rolled up her sleeves and clapped her hands excitedly. 

First things first! Did the lights work?

She clicked the switch by the door and was pleasantly surprised when a few of the bulbs flickered into life. Most of the lights needed repairing as it was still very dim but it would do for now.

“Hmm.” she hummed, twirling around to inspect the rest of the library. The carpet was peeling, as was the wallpaper. Some of the shelves were broken and books were teetering on the edge, some had even fallen to the floor. The cupboard behind the counter had a door missing and the counter itself had a broken hatch and was rotten in places.It smelled musty and unloved but she figured that leaving the doors open would solve that problem. Belle dropped her bag and coat by the counter and set to work. 

She spent the morning taking all the books off the shelves and stacking them on the floor. She found an old cart round the back of the shelves with a wobbly wheel and made good use of it for dragging the books around the place. It was slow work, mostly because she kept getting distracted by beautiful old copies of classics and books in strange languages she had never seen before. The collection was truly inspiring. Some of the books had faded covers, water damage and had been chewed through by what she could only assume was a mouse. Those books she set aside for restoration. 

By the time lunch came around, half of the shelves were empty and the musty smell was being replaced by fresh air seeping in through the open doors. Belle checked her watch and realised with a start that it was nearly 2pm. She placed the books in her arms on the cart, grabbed her bag and the keys and locked up the library for lunch. She was halfway down the street, on her way to the diner when she spotted a familiar face.

“Belle!”

“Mary Margaret!”

The other woman stopped in front of her, a big smile on her face.

“How’s the library?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Belle gushed. “I mean it’s dusty and there’s a fair bit of damage from neglect but nothing a lick of paint and a feather duster can’t cure.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Mary Margaret smiled, “I’ll be down there with the school groups in no time!”

Belle laughed.

“Listen Belle,” Mary Margaret suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. “I was just having lunch with Ruby and she mentioned that you were with Mr Gold this morning.”

“Oh,” Belle frowned, “I suppose so, he helped me open the doors to the library, they were a little bit stuck!”

Mary Margaret avoided her eyes.

“I should warn you. He’s not exactly the best person to be making friends with in this town. He’s not well liked around here.”

“Why?” Belle asked, curious. “He seemed fine to me?”

“He’s not the nicest man around. He’s dangerous. I…I know that you’re new around here and it’s difficult to know what’s what. I just thought I should tell you. Being friends with Mr Gold won’t do you any favours. You’d do better to stay away from him.”

“Well I wasn’t exactly with him, Mary Margaret, he just helped me open a door!” Belle laughed.

Mary Margaret looked a little disturbed.

“Just be careful.” she smiled at Belle then bid her good day before hurrying off down the high street.

Belle felt bemused by the conversation. Sure Mr Gold was little stern looking and a tad blunt but he hadn’t come across as dangerous had he? He had stopped her from falling…and helped her open the door! Belle felt like there was more to this story, but her rumbling stomach and the threat of rain had her hurry away into the warmth of Granny’s Diner where she spent her lunch break eating lasagne and chatting happily to Ruby.

Meanwhile, tucked away in the back room of the dark pawnbroker shop, Mr Gold was berating himself for having used magic to open a stupid library door. All magic comes with a price. Something he knew all too well, and he had a horrible feeling that in this case the price had something to do with the pretty brunette who had stumbled, quite literally, into his life…


	8. Chapter 8- Chivalry isn't Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for your lovely comments and kudos! I'm glad you seem to be enjoying the story and I hope you're excited for more to come!- Bond x

CHAPTER 8- CHIVALRY ISN’T DEAD.

That afternoon, Belle sat on the peeling carpet of the library floor and organised the towering, unsteady piles of books around her, while the rain that had been threatening all day, poured from the sky and dripped from the porch of the library. It filled the place with a fresh rain smell and a calm pattering sound which entered through the still open doors.

Belle felt suitably content, in her element even as she caressed the books around her, giving each the attention it so desperately needed and deserved. She was far away, her mind filled with thoughts of the books she organised them accordingly and her senses distracted by the calming sounds and smells that the rain brought. Truly a fresh start.

“Miss French?” a voice called from the doorway.

Belle’s head snapped up and the daydreams flew away. She scrambled to her feet amidst the books.

“Here!” she called, raising an arm.

“Oh there you are.” A woman had entered the library. She had the sharp look of a businesswoman and the beauty of a queen.

“Mayor Mills?” Belle chanced.

“Yes.” the woman replied. Belle smiled, (a smile which was not returned). “How is everything here?”

“Oh it’s wonderful.” Belle indicated to the piles of books, “It’s a beautiful collection.”

“Hmm.” Regina curled her nose up. “Is there much damage?”

“A fair bit.” Belle admitted. “There’s lots of damp and rotting. The counter is damaged, the carpets and wallpaper may need replacing and some of the shelves and books need restoring.”

“Fantastic.” Regina drawled sarcastically, frowning as she glanced around.

“I don’t mind restoring the books myself and I’m happy to paint the walls and pull up carpets too, to save on labour costs.” Belle rushed.

“Well that would help a little. I have a budget for you but it’s not particularly large.”

“That’s alright. I’ll make do.”

“That’s the spirit Miss French.” Regina smirked coldly.

Belle wasn’t sure quite how she felt about this woman yet.

“Well I’ll email over the budget information and I’ll check on your progress next week, otherwise I’ll leave you to it. You seem to have a handle on things.”

“Thank you, Mayor.” Belle smiled.

Regina made to leave without a goodbye, but turned in the doorway.

“Oh and Miss French?”

Belle looked up.

“I don’t know what you see in him, but all the same, I’d advise you to stay away from Mr Gold.”

Belle spluttered, caught by surprise at the sudden change in conversation.

“I-I don’t even- he just…he just helped me with the door that’s all!”

“Even so,” Regina glared menacingly, “I’d keep away.”

And with that warning, she was gone.

Belle frowned. How quickly did news travel in this town?! And it was a far cry calling her chat with Mr Gold news! All he’d done was open the stupid door!

Wondering what on earth Gold could have possibly done to warrant such a notorious reputation, Belle drifted to the doors and closed them distractedly, not noticing the perfect hinges and locks that had been rusted and broken that very morning…

She let her restless thoughts drift away to mindless things and the rest of the day went undisturbed. She was left alone with the books and it wasn’t until she began to feel cold that she looked up to see that it was dark outside. She stepped over the considerably smaller piles of books around her and stacked the remaining unsorted ones onto the wobbly cart. Then she grabbed her things, being careful to shut off the lights, before leaving the library for the night.

It was freezing cold and pitch black outside and she fumbled with the keys for a moment, her eyes adjusting. She stepped out from under the library porch and felt the heavy rain that was cascading. It looked like another unpleasant walk home. She sighed miserably. 

In the glow of the street lamps, the rain soaked streets glimmered. Belle was careful to watch where she stepped. It was a long walk home and it wouldn’t do to have wet shoes.

She was halfway down the high street when a door opened ahead of her and bathed the pavement in warm golden light. Out of the doorway stepped, as if fate was determined to make a fool of them both, the clearly infamous Mr Gold.

“Mr Gold” she blurted before she could stop herself.

Gold turned sharply, looking a little startled, but upon realising who it was, he relaxed and turned back to closing his shop door and hitting the lights.

“Miss French.” he mumbled, distracted by fitting the keys into the lock.

Belle shivered in the rain, feeling compelled to wait for him for some unknown reason. After a moment he looked up, confusion written on his face when he saw her standing there soaked. Why had she waited?

“Thank you for your help earlier.” Belle smiled, breaking the silence.

“It was no problem.” he nodded, stepping forwards. Alarmingly, she fell into step alongside him.

“I also feel like I should apologise.”

He frowned.

“And why would you do that?”

“For bursting into your shop yesterday.” Belle laughed.

Mr Gold was reminded of the small woman who had indeed entered his shop before opening the day before.

“No harm done.” he mumbled gruffly, tightening his grip on his cane.

Silence fell over them once more and Gold was very conscious of the woman walking closely beside him. He didn’t know what to say, was almost afraid to breathe. She had a mysterious energy that drew him in like a moth to a flame and the look of someone he felt he ought to know. 

His car was parked down the next side street and yet, strangely, he felt like he’d rather walk down the street a little longer. The cold was biting at his knee and his hair was soaked from the rain but the street was captivating tonight…or perhaps it was the little woman next to him. She bounced in step with him, shivering obviously but smiling whenever he caught her eye. In the quiet, he carefully considered his next move.

“So, Mr Gold,” Belle had spoken, disrupting Gold’s thoughts. “you own an antique shop?”

Gold almost snorted. She was clearly clutching at straws for conversation if she had resorted to simply repeating the facts she knew about him.

“Yes.” he replied bluntly.

He saw her nod and almost laughed. He would have thrived in the amusing awkwardness if he was the man he used to- well…if he were someone else…

Instead, he said quietly. “And you work in the library?” 

Belle did laugh. Apparently she understood his sense of humour.

“Yes I do.”

Her laugh was infectious, like a breath of fresh air in a town where he was consumed by a constant cloud of poisonous gas.

They were fast approaching his car but he wasn't sure he was ready to end this awkward, clunky but wonderfully pleasant conversation yet. He slowed his walk and Belle matched his speed, noticing the car. They were stopping…he had to act now if he wanted to keep talking to her!

Then Gold did something he hadn’t done in years, something people wouldn’t believe if they heard about it…

“Miss French, may I offer you a ride home?”

Belle looked at him, the cogs in her brain almost audible in their turning.

“I don’t want to trouble you.” she replied gently, her eyes hesitant.

“Not at all.” he answered before he could think, stepping aside to open the car door for her.

He wasn’t sure where this chivalry had come from, this new, pleasant and charming Mr Gold. He wasn’t sure what it was about Miss French that made him want to extend hospitalities he had forgotten he could share but her beaming smile was radiant as she gracefully slid into the passenger seat of his car and he couldn’t help thinking that it was worth abandoning the character he had worked so hard to build if only to see her smile like that again.


	9. Chapter 9- There's Nothing Quite Like an Awkward Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience. Enjoy this one!! x

**CHAPTER 9- THERE'S NOTHING QUITE LIKE AN AWKWARD SILENCE**

Belle watched as Gold walked around the car to join her inside. He struggled to move his leg inside and she was forced to bite her lip to prevent herself from asking the question that was burning on her tongue. What had happened to it? He was silent for a while, avoiding her eyes and fiddling with his seatbelt. He started the car and began to pull away, the radio playing softly and the headlights lighting the street ahead.

The silence was now deafening. Belle had to say something…anything!

“Thank you Mr Gold.” she smiled at her silent companion. He nodded awkwardly in response. “I mean it, I would have been soaking by the time I got home!” she ploughed on, desperate to break the awkward silence.

He nodded again then returned his gaze to the road, silence descending once more.

“A strange thing happened to me today…” Belle tried again. Gold flicked his eyes to her. “Well actually two strange things…”

“Strange things?” Gold prompted.

Pleased and encouraged by his response, Belle began to babble.

“Yes! Well, firstly, Mary Margaret- teacher at the school, dark hair, pixie cut-” Belle elaborated.

“I know her.” Gold replied.

“Yes well, she stopped me outside the library at lunch to warn me against talking with you.”

Gold raised an eyebrow, eyes on the road. “Oh really?” he said quietly.

“Yes.” Belle confirmed, continuing. “Any idea why?”

Gold tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Let’s just say, I have a rather… unfortunate reputation in this town.” he spoke gently.

Belle shuffled a little in her seat. This conversation was not going the way she had planned. She had expected him to laugh and explain some kind of inside joke. Instead his solemn confirmation of the warnings had thrown her and she was a little bit afraid. She barely noticed the silence seeping into the car again.

“I believe you said two strange things, Miss French.” Gold said softly, startling Belle from her reverie.

“Oh…yeah.” Belle stuttered. “Well, erm…the second thing was erm…Regina Mills, the mayor.”

It was as if she had said the magic word. Gold’s attention snapped to her immediately, his eyes glinting strangely.

“Regina.” he said bluntly. “What did she have to say?”

“Well, pretty much the same thing really.” Belle finished lamely.

Gold turned his attention back to the road, his expression hard. For a while there was silence once more but this time Belle didn't feel the need to break it. The car rolled on, it’s headlights still glinting and radio still humming.

“I must ask.” Gold asked quietly, after a while. “If you’ve been warned against me, then why are you now sitting in my car?”

Belle looked up and was relieved to see that his face was amused.

“I choose to make my own judgement. Nobody decides my fate but me.”

Gold smiled slightly.

“A brave answer.”

Belle smirked.

“Where am I taking you, Miss French?”

“Oh, just drop me off wherever is easiest for you. I live in the Bluebell Building by the forest, but I can walk the last bit.” Belle gushed, not wanting to cause Gold any trouble.

“Don’t worry Miss French, I’ll take you to the door.” he smiled, amused.  
“You really don’t have to-“

“I want to.” he finished, shutting down her protests.

“Oh…” Belle smiled at him gratefully, “Well then, thank you very much.”

“You’re most welcome.” he replied still smirking. “It wouldn’t do to hear that you’d been attacked in the dark because you’d been walking alone now would it.”

Belle giggled nervously.

Silence once more. They were nearing her destination before either spoke again.

“The building on the left?” Gold indicated.

“Yes, thank you!” Belle confirmed.

The car rolled up on the gravel outside her little apartment building. The headlights bounced off the ground floor windows and the engine thrummed quietly. Belle turned to Gold whose attention was now focussed on her.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr Gold.”

“You’re welcome, Miss French.” he replied.

Belle smiled at him one last time as she opened the door and began to step out into the pouring rain.

“Oh,” she stopped, her head hovering in the doorway, “and you’re quite welcome to call me Belle.”

Gold smiled at her sheepishly and she giggled at him, amused.

“Goodnight, Mr Gold!” Belle waved, shutting the door with her free hand and hurrying off into the rain soaked darkness.

“Goodnight, Belle.” Gold whispered to his empty car.


	10. Chapter 10- Don't Judge a Book by it's Amazon Review.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting! I hope you enjoy this one! x

CHAPTER 10- DON'T JUDGE A BOOK BY IT'S AMAZON REVIEW.

Driving home without Belle in his car felt strange. She’d left behind an energy and a warmth that seemed to sleep in the very leathers of the seats and hovered like mist, a sweet smelling, harmless, perfumed mist that was opposite to everything this car had ever known.

Considering she had never set foot in the vehicle before that night and had spent barely 10 minutes in it, it felt unusually empty without her now that she was gone and Gold had to mentally shake himself to stop his overactive brain retracing her every movement or wondering whether her seat was still warm.

Her seat! 

When had it become ‘her’ seat!?

Gold snorted in derision at himself and physically shook his head, laughing at how pathetic he sounded, even to himself. He didn’t even know this woman! This little tiny brunette with her bouncing curls and bright eyes. Half his age and twice his character; she was invading his brain and making him look a fool to his worst critic, himself. He sighed, trying to calm his racing mind. It was an impossible task. He couldn’t shake the haunting feeling that he knew this woman, not on face value, no, but he knew her. She felt familiar in a way he couldn’t describe. 

He pulled his car onto the driveway and turned off the engine, sighing loudly in the silence and dropping his head to rest on the steering wheel. Gold was used to being alone, liked it mostly, but for the first time in his life he was feeling…lonely. He felt like part of him was missing, like he was sitting in the darkness and waiting for a light. 

Cliche. 

He knew it.

It sounded so even to him, but that didn't make it any less true and in the quiet of his quickly cooling car, he cursed Belle French for her dangerous and infectious warmth with a smile on his lips.

Gold limped as quickly as he could up to his front door. The rain was still falling mercilessly but he could only go so fast without fear of slipping over. He had reached his door and was digging out his keys, trying to ignore the ache in his ankle when she shouted to him.

“Gold.”

He turned slowly, leaning heavily on his golden topped cane and biting back a satisfied smirk.

“Madam Mayor.”

Regina was barely visible in the darkness, her silhouette framed in the orange light of the streetlamp. She was angry. He could tell, she had adopted her ‘I’m angry and I’m about to get vicious’ stance.

“Gold, we need to talk.”

“It’s a little late for that don’t you think dearie?” he replied quietly, his smirk breaking free. “And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining. Now we both know that hell itself would have to freeze over for me to invite you inside so, what’s the use in us both getting wet? Goodnight Madam Mayor, don’t be a stranger…” he turned away, satisfied that she was angry and he was amused.

“Stay away from her Gold.” 

He froze. 

Without turning, he replied, “To whom are you referring?”

“I don’t know what you want with her but I know you well enough that I know it can’t be good.” Regina growled. “You’re not friendly, Gold. You’re not gentlemanly, so your little ‘ride home’ has to be for something. You give nothing for free. There are no ‘favours’ with you. Everything is a deal and I don’t know what you want from her but you should know that I will be here to make sure that you don’t get it.”

Gold turned to face her once more.

“Oh really?” he warned, his eyes glinting and his voice low. “Now why would you want to do that?”

“Because I know you Gold, and I know that if you want it badly enough to put on a show that human, then it can’t be anything good.” Regina bit.

Gold chuckled humourlessly.

“Of course it can’t, dearie.” he growled threatening, “Because you know me so well.”

With that he left her standing in the rain and stepped into the safety of his home. 

The darkness in here was calming rather than suffocating and the light was warmer; the harsh orange of the street lamps outside was softened by the glimmering from the coloured glass in his door. Once inside, and satisfied that the door had clicked shut behind him, he leaned back against it for a moment, his eyes closed in search of a moment of peace. 

As the protection of ‘home’ seeped into his skin and the quiet of his authority in this place soothed his mind, he began to regain his composure and his calm. It took several moments of being on pause for Gold to tame the fury that was building inside him at Regina’s interference. The curious and alarming warmth Belle had left inside his car had vanished in the mayor’s outburst and he felt the loss keenly. Gold took a step forward and as it echoed loudly throughout his beautiful but empty house, he felt another sharp stab of loneliness and loss.

The rest of the evening he spent nursing a glass of whisky on his sofa in silence. The clock ticked away the soundtrack to his life, and the light from the street cast shadows across his living room. 

He was lonely. 

For the first time in his life he felt truly, truly lonely. 

His head was hurting, his ankle aching and his heart along with it. He ran his thumb along the rim of his glass and stared deep into the amber liquid it held. 

So this was loneliness. 

This feeling of utter and total emptiness. It was torturous.

The thought that plagued his mind that night before he passed out on his sofa was that this feeling, this awful awful consuming feeling, was probably the price of using his magic to help Belle with the library doors.

It had been an unnecessary show, he could have walked by and left her. He could have ignored her struggle but instead he had chosen to help her, to reach out to her and this was his payment. This desperation, longing and quiet suffering; this was the price of using his magic to pretend to be something he wasn’t: good.

 

Meanwhile, it wasn’t until she’d arrived home, had a bath in her candle lit bathroom, thrown on her PJs and settled in her makeshift bed, that Belle realised how stupid she had been that night. Not only had she blabbered like a lunatic to a man who probably wasn’t interested in anything she had to say; but she had hopped into his car willingly without knowing a thing about him!

That wasn’t strictly true, she supposed, she knew that everyone in this town hated him and yet she had still gotten into his car without a single protest. He could have been anyone. He could have been a murderer or a crazy psychopath! She was lucky to be alive really! He could have kidnapped her and kept her locked away forever!

But he hadn’t. He had simply driven her home, extended every courtesy and gone out of his way to make sure she had arrived at her home safely. He had even smiled (even if it was slightly begrudging) and made jokes.

Belle didn’t know what Mr Gold had done to deserve such a raincloud of a reputation but she couldn't help feeling that no matter what anyone said, she was drawn to him in a totally unexpected way and no amount of bad news would stop her getting to know him and finding out the truth about him. She had never been one to judge a book by it’s amazon reviews, always preferring to read it for herself. 

She fell into an uneasy sleep that night, feeling foolish and wise all at once. Perhaps it was true that getting into cars with strange men wasn’t smart but Belle didn’t let that hide the fact that she was determined to see the best in every person she met, no matter how naive that made her sound. 

She didn’t yet know anyone in this little town and it would be wrong of her to succumb to the gossip that plagued it. The people here deserved a chance to be viewed with untainted eyes, just as she was and that is exactly what she planned to do; starting with the town beast and local pawnbroker.


	11. Chapter 11- The Strange Case of Mr Gold and Rumpelstiltskin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies! This should have been written and published ages ago but I've been working every day, trying to get everything packed so that I can move into my new flat and to top it all off, super super ill. I'm very sorry about the delay but I hope you enjoy this chapter all the same! I warn you, it contains some swears :O xx

CHAPTER 11- THE STRANGE CASE OF MR GOLD AND RUMPELSTILTSKIN

It was several weeks before Belle and Mr Gold crossed paths once again, and in the time apart, Belle had thrown herself headlong into renovating and refurbishing the library. The books were being kept in boxes all around and the ground was covered in dust sheets, protecting the wooden floorboards from her painting assault. In hindsight, agreeing to do a lot of the decorating work herself had been fantastic for pleasing her new boss, but disastrous for her clothes, the library floors and generally anything else that her paintbrush touched.

Belle was struggling with the painting work, mainly because she just wasn’t tall enough to cover more than half of the walls. It had taken her weeks to paint the shelves and now that she’d started on the walls, the job seemed never ending. 

The rain that had arrived with her in her first week in Storybrooke, hadn’t yet had the decency to leave and everyday had been accompanied by varying degrees of moisture. Some days had been light drizzle, others had been heavy downpours and, like today, some days had been violent thunderstorms. Today the thunder rumbled menacingly overhead and the rain fell in sheets, dashing the ground and drenching the few residents foolish enough to venture outside. 

Belle sighed as she glanced out of the library window. She had discovered the bus stop several days ago but the journey home was long and unpleasant. It wasn’t that she lived particularly far away, rather that the bus took her the long route home, through every estate on the way. She didn’t mind travelling on public transport, but some of the other travellers were unpleasant. She’d quickly learned to put her bag on the seat beside her to avoid attracting an unwanted neighbour.

She’d achieved much today, nearly all the walls were painted, (well… half painted as she still couldn't reach the top!) She decided that tomorrow, she would dig out the old stepladder and make a start on the missing half but for now her arms were aching and she was starting to feel light headed from the smell of paint. She carefully placed the lid on the paint pot and washed the brushes out in the tiny bathroom sink before removing her painting shirt that was covering her clothes and gathering her things.

It was getting late, nearing 6pm, and she knew that she’d have to leave now to catch the bus otherwise face waiting in the rain for an hour for the next one. She hurriedly stuffed things into her bag and threw on her raincoat before locking up the library and dashing out into the storm.

The bus stop was just across the street and she could see the headlights of the bus as she approached the stop. She flung out her arm and jumped back from the curb as the slowing bus sent a tidal wave of water flooding onto the pavement. Cursing her damp shoes, she clambered aboard and paid the driver before choosing a seat near the back.

The bus wasn’t busy tonight, only several other passengers besides herself. An old woman with a shopping cart was sat in the seats near the front and a group of young boys were hovering near the front, music playing from their phones and hoods drawn over their heads. Belle was forced to squeeze past them as she made her way to the back of the bus to sit on the seats near a young woman who was furiously texting.

The boys whistled at her as she walked past and she lowered her head, ignoring them as she took her seat. The bus moved off and Belle rubbed a clear patch into the misted window so she could see the streets flying by. She scrambled in her bag and dug out the old copy of ‘The Legends of King Arthur’ that she had rescued from the library and gently thumbed to the page she had left off on.

It didn’t take long before she was absorbed in the story, but all the while she could feel the eyes of the men near the front of the bus and hear their whispers and grunting laughs. They made her feel incredibly uncomfortable, but she reminded herself that she wasn’t near enough to them to cause trouble. 

The bus pulled into another stop and a young woman with a pram came aboard. The men moved to allow her the pram space and to Belle’s horror, one of them made right for her, encouraged by his friend’s jeering calls.

“Can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the seat beside her.

“Er…” Belle began, but the man had pushed her bag aside and was sitting down without waiting for an answer. 

Space was tight and now her handbag was crushed against her hip and the man’s leg was dangerously close to hers.

“Hi.” he said, smiling with bared teeth.

Belle stared. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t ever remember feeling this uncomfortable.

“I’m Ben.” he said, his eyes roaming over her.

She smiled weakly and returned to her book.

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” he asked, demanding her attention.

“It’s Belle.” she answered shortly, her eyes returning to the page. But she couldn’t focus on the words. Her senses were heightened and she could feel her hands trembling slightly.

“Nice name.” Ben answered. “You new around here?”

“Yes.” Belle answered bravely. “But I’m actually reading right now.” she indicated to the book resting on her lap.

Ben laughed coldly. 

“What? You don’t wanna talk to me?” he pushed.

“No thank you.” Belle answered.

“Come on. I’m a nice guy.” Ben pressed. “I just wanna get to know you.”

His friends were laughing. Their conversation was drawing the attention of the mother and her child. Belle shot her a desperate look, but she looked away.

“That’s nice, but I’m reading.” Belle repeated, her voice shaking.

The bus was slowing but Belle had barely noticed.

“Come on.” Ben crooned, his hand roaming to her leg.

“Stop it.” Belle warned in a weak voice.

“You shouldn’t brush me off, I’m a nice guy.” Ben mumbled, his mouth close to her ear.

His friends were laughing louder now. The baby was crying. The bus wasn’t moving and Belle’s heart was pounding.

“Stop it.” she protested weakly as his hand roamed higher and high-

“May I sit here?” 

A quiet voice had broken the spell of Belle’s panic. Her eyes snapped up and she breathed an immediate sigh of relief. Mr Gold was standing by the seat. His right hand clenched upon his gold topped cane and his left hand gripping the seat before them. He was swaying slightly on the moving bus but his face was a mask of calm and his eyes were steely.

“I’m sitting here.” Ben replied indignantly, his hand gripping Belle’s thigh tightly.

“Well dearie,” Gold replied, adjusting his stance to make him more threatening. “It’s polite to give up your seat to those more needy.”

Ben glowered at him, obviously not believing that Gold was ‘needy’ in any way as he stood there in his expensive suit, glaring down at him with his most intimidating body language.

“There are plenty of seats on this bus, mate. Pick one.” Ben snarled, leaning towards Gold.

The altercation was starting to attract the attention of the few other passengers. Even the texting woman was watching. Ben’s friends were looking sheepish. Apparently their love of mischief ended at refusing to give up their seats to limping older men.

Gold grinned wickedly and leaned in too.

“Get your hand off her leg, dearie.” he whispered dangerously.

Ben’s grip tightened.

“Move along, old man.” he spat.

Gold’s face was darkening and he stepped back, exaggerating his limp and stumbling slightly as the bus rocked. Instinctively, Belle jumped and made for him. Ben’s arm pushed her back into her seat and she gasped in shock.

“Hey!” she yelped madly.

“Come on dude.” One of Ben’s friends called nervously from the front of the bus. “Just give him the seat.”

With a furious glance at Gold and a sharp squeeze of Belle’s leg, Ben rose from the seat and stormed down the bus towards his friends, shoving Gold as he went. His vicious departure left Belle feeling shaken and close to tears. Her vision swam as she stared determinedly at the book still resting on her knee. She bit her lip to stop the tears.

A gentle flurry of movement beside her alerted her to Gold’s presence. 

“Are you ok?” he whispered softly, his eyes still fixed on Ben and his friends.

“Fine.” Belle replied, shakily.

Gold said nothing more but he made sure to leave space between his legs and Belle’s, clearly not wanting to encroach on her space. She spent the rest of the journey staring at the pages of her book. Gold kept shooting her glances, noticing that she hand’t turned a page since he sat down.

 

The sky outside was dark but Belle knew she was nearing her stop. Still trembling slightly she stood up and gathered her things, silently cursing the fact that she would have to walk past Ben and his cronies to exit the bus.

As she rose, Gold turned to look at her.  
“Sorry,” she apologised, “May I?” she indicated to the exit and he nodded once before standing up and moving to the side for her to pass.

He was careful not to brush any part of her body with his as she slid out from the seats and staggered down the still moving bus.

His eyes followed Belle as she made her way towards the driver. He was about to sit down, assuming her safe, when Ben and his gang stood up too. Belle turned and looked over her shoulder and upon catching sight of the gang, blanched. Gold immediately followed her path down the bus and brushed through the jeering men towards Belle.

Up close he could see her wide, fearful eyes and pale face. He placed a gentle hand on her arm and she jumped, turning to face him quickly. At the sight, she relaxed slightly and gave him a weak but grateful smile.

The bus pulled to a stop and Gold, Belle and Ben’s gang stepped off into the pouring rain. It was freezing cold and their breath misted before them as they set off down the road. Gold didn’t have any idea where he was. His stop wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes but a sense of gentlemanly duty and a fear of what Ben’s rowdy gang could do to Belle had forced him to exit the bus. Belle led him along the road, his hand still resting on her arm. He made to draw it away but her hand shot out and grasped his wrist.

Apparently, despite her brave face, she was very afraid. Gold wasn’t sure what it was about him that comforted her, but he did his best to look intimidating as they set off down the dimly lit road. Ben’s gang followed them, their voices loud in the quiet that surrounded them. Gold wasn’t afraid of a group of worthless thugs. He may be small, thin and old with an injured leg but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pack a mean punch if he needed to, and of course he could always use-

“This way.” Belle’s quiet voice disturbed his scheming internal monologue and he followed her down a little alleyway between two sets of overgrown hedgerows. The gang followed them, their footsteps loud. The alleyway was dark and Belle’s grip on his wrist grew tighter as she realised how secluded their location was. Her pace increased and Gold followed, his cane tapping on the cobbled alley, a soundtrack to their tension.

“Oi!” came a voice from behind them. Belle almost fell in her haste to dash away, but Gold caught her and turned sharply on his heel to face the gang. Reluctantly, Belle stopped behind him, his body a shield to her.

“Yes dearie?” called Gold, facing the gang with a strange glint in his eyes.

“Get off her old man.” shouted a voice that Belle now recognised as Ben’s. He pushed forward through the group and stood framed with his cronies behind him, cracking their knuckles threateningly. “She’s mine.”

Ben was smirking sickeningly and it took all of Gold’s self restraint not to march forward and smack the stupid grin off his face.

“Hey!” shouted Belle, startling Gold as she pushed past him to stare down Ben. “I am not ‘yours’ nor will I ever be. I don’t go for scrawny little thugs.”

In the moonlight she looked wild. Her eyes flashing menacingly and her pale face pink about the cheeks with fury. Gold watched her carefully, unsure how to take this sudden change in the sweet tempered librarian.

“Nobody asked you, bitch.” Ben snarled at her. 

Gold tightened his hold on the cane such that his knuckles turned white. He bared his teeth and couldn’t hold back the snarl that escaped.

“Apologise.” he warned, his accent thickening.

Ben laughed.

“Fuck you.” he spat.

Belle’s bravery was waning, especially in the shadow of Gold’s transformation from gentleman to snarling predator. He stepped forward carefully, his heels clicking on the cobbles and raised his cane like a bat.

Belle felt like she was witnessing a scene from Jekyll and Hyde. Gold, the cranky but ultimately chivalrous pawnbroker had transformed before her eyes into a snarling beast, inching towards his prey with his hackles up. 

Ben stepped forward, fists raised but before he could even take a swing, Gold’s cane collided sharply with the side of his face with an echoing crack.

Belle gasped. Ben fell to the floor, swearing. His gang backed away, afraid of the look on Gold’s face, a look which Belle could not see from this distance but could vividly imagine. Ben scrambled to his feet, fury etched in every line on his face.

“Fucking cripple.” he swore, throwing his weight at Gold and knocking him to the floor.

Belle wanted to help, really she did, but just as Ben’s gang had backed away, she felt frozen to the spot. Fists were flying and it appeared that despite Gold’s age disadvantage, it was Ben who was taking a worse beating. Gold had staggered to his feet and was beating Ben sharply with his cane. The boy whimpering as Gold leaned over him, bringing blow after blow.

The gang had mostly fled. Two of the bigger lads ran forward and dragged Ben away from the unstoppable Mr Gold. They ran as quickly as they could with the limping ringleader down the alley and away into the darkness.

In the aftermath of the fight, Belle was left stood in the silence, rainwater dripping from the end of her nose and sopping hair staring at the silhouette of her saviour and monster. Gold was leaning heavily on his cane. In the darkness, she could make out his stooped figure and the breath misting from his mouth. He didn’t speak, didn’t even raise his head but she could hear him panting.

“Mr Gold?” she croaked after what felt like an age. 

He raised his head slowly.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

He nodded and then turned to walk back down the alley. His limp more pronounced than ever.

“Wait!” she called after him, hurrying forward without a thought. He stopped and turned back to look at her with confusion.

She walked towards him, wary after his display of obvious violence. However up close, he didn’t look threatening at all. His long hair was plastered to his face from the rain, his lip was bleeding profusely and a dark bruise was blooming under his left eye. His face wasn’t a mask of calm anymore and his eyes weren’t dangerous. Instead he looked ashamed and afraid, as though she too were going to beat him.

“Oh.” she gasped, her hand instinctively jumping to grasp his arm. He twitched at the touch and shrugged away but she stepped closer.

“You’re hurt.” she whispered. 

“I’m fine.” he replied sharply.

“No, you’re not.” she shook her head. 

Silence fell while her eyes roamed his confused face, assessing the damage.

“Thank you.” she breathed. “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before. You could have been killed.”

He chuckled lowly at that comment.

“I doubt that Miss French.”

He had remembered her name. She had felt sure he would have forgotten. He was a busy man, an important man and she had felt sure that he would not remember the name of a girl he had given a ride home to.

“My place is just around the corner, come with me and I’ll patch you up.” she offered, her hand still clutching his arm.

“There’s no need-“ he began.

“I insist.” she demanded, meeting his eyes. He swallowed, watching her closely and then finally, he nodded.


	12. Chapter 12- The Many Icepacks

Chapter 12- The Many Icepacks

 

Time was passing in a strange way. It was standing still, resonating in the long silence as they walked and at the same time jumping by in huge unexpected bursts because of all a sudden they were stood in Belle’s kitchen and she could hardly remember them arriving.

She supposed it must be the adrenaline messing with her, after everything that had happened in the last half hour it seemed like her heart would never stop pounding.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Belle smiled. Gold’s face was impassive but he limped more slowly than he usually did towards her little sofa and sat down. 

Bustling around in the kitchen as she was, she still didn’t miss the tiny groan of pain that escaped his lips as he sat. She flicked on the kettle and began throwing open cupboard doors as she searched for her first aid kit. He was obviously in quite a bit of pain.

The dim street lamp glow was travelling through the bay windows of her living room and casting Gold in a long shadow. He suddenly seemed very small, much less imposing than the dangerous figure who had just beaten a predator senseless.

Finally she found the first aid kit and made her way over to him with shaking hands.

He was sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose and his eyes clenched shut.

“Mr Gold?” she prompted softly, causing his eyes to snap open. “I’ve found it.” 

She showed him the first aid kit lamely then perched herself on the seat next to him gracefully. The room was quiet, with only the practical sounds of the first aid kit being opened and packets being rustled as she set to work.

Gold’s face was a picture. His lip was split and bleeding profusely down his chin, he had a black eye forming nicely and a nasty cut on his cheek which she supposed had been made by a ring. 

With delicate fingers she cleaned his face with the alcohol wipes and gently removed any gravel from the cut. He winced but said nothing. She placed an ice pack over his eye and instructed him to keep pressure on the bleeding cuts.

He thanked her quietly and half expected her to move away when she grabbed his hand suddenly. Beneath her touch, his fingers clenched tightly but she unravelled them to inspect the bruised and scraped knuckles.

“Ouch.” she voiced aloud, running a gentle finger over the scrapes. “I’ll see if I have another ice pack.”

She rose quickly and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Gold sat with an icepack on his face in the darkness of her living room, his heart pounding at the unexpected touch. Between the shadows he could see the outline of many cardboard boxes stacked along the walls, piles of books and what appeared to be a flat pack bookshelf still in it’s box. The sofa on which he sat was draped in throws which he assumed were to disguise it’s agedness. There was a rug on the floor before him and a tiny coffee table with a used mug and a shabby open book. He supposed she must have been reading it the night before, curled up on the sofa.

Suddenly Belle was returning with two mugs of steaming tea and a packet of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel under her arm. She placed the mugs on the coffee table and handed him the new ice pack.

“For your hands.” she announced.

He thanked her tonelessly and applied the pack as he was instructed.

Belle picked up her mug and began to sip her tea. He turned to face her and she snorted into the cup.

“You look ridiculous.” she giggled. 

Gold frowned and cast a glance down. She might have a point.

He was covered in mud, drenched to the skin with his long hair now curling around his face. He had an ice pack over his hand, one pressed to his eye and cotton buds stemming the blood flow from the cuts on his face.

He tried to cast her a sheepish smile but winced instead.

“Oh I’m sorry.” she gasped, placing a hand on his arm. “I really can’t thank you enough for what you did.”

“It was no matter.” he muttered.

“Of course it was. You might have just saved my life.” she declared seriously.

Gold doubted that those thugs were brave enough to kill her, just stupid enough to cause her some serious psychological damage. Perhaps rather than her life, he had saved her mind.

“How come you were on the bus?” she asked taking a sip of tea, “I seem to remember that you have a delightful Cadillac? What made you slum it?”

He snorted slightly at that remark.

“Someone slashed my tyres. It’s in for repair.” he admitted.

“That’s horrible!” Belle gasped, placing her tea down on the table and turning her whole body to face him. “Why would they do that?!”

Gold cast her a searching glance. Was she really surprised?

“I’m not well liked here, Belle.” he repeated quietly, feeling like he was stating the obvious.

Suddenly Belle flushed bright pink, right to her ears. It was adorable really but concerning.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You remembered my name.” she smiled lightly.

“Oh.” Now he was flushing goddamn it.

Belle seemed to sense the panic which was rolling off him in waves and so she changed the subject, fussing over his ice pack and handing him a mug of tea. Under her attentions he was beginning to feel less wretched.

They began to chat about nothing and everything and soon he was hearing all about her degree, her father’s shop and her very miserable life back home. He was listening intently, drinking in any and all information about her and offering very little back of himself. It wasn’t until he caught her stifling a yawn behind her hand that he realised how late it was.

“I should go.” he announced, rising quickly and grimacing at the pain in his leg.

“Are you sure?” Belle rushed, jumping to her feet too. “It’s late and raining, you’re welcome to stay here tonight?”

She felt bad kicking her saviour out into the street, but little did she know that her offer had just sent wild panic to Gold’s heart and he was now desperate to flee her company.

“Oh no, no that won’t be necessary.” he stammered, “Thank you anyway…”

He limped heavily to the door and she caught him by the arm.

“Let me at least call you a taxi.” she pleaded, her eyes wide.

He gave a pained sigh and she shot him a smile, reaching for her mobile as he waited by the door. He heard her cheery voice giving directions and he wondered how he had ever ended up here. His heart was pounding and he was desperate to hide under his bedcovers and wallow in self pity.

“It’ll be here any minute.” she reappeared by his side, placing a warm hand on his arm. One of the only advantages of living in a small town was the quick taxis without far to travel, because Gold thought that if he stayed here any longer with her touchy feely nonsense, his heart might explode.

“Thank you Miss French.”

“Belle.” she corrected, smiling.

“Belle.” he repeated. 

She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, causing him to blush like a schoolboy.

“Thank you for saving me.” she mumbled quietly.

“Thank you for all the ice packs.”

She laughed and met his eyes with shimmering mirth.

“Goodnight Mr Gold.”

“Goodnight Miss French.” he answered, stepping into the hallway.

“Belle.” she smiled.

“Belle.” he repeated as he turned away from her closing door and made his sorry way down to the waiting taxi.


End file.
